


constellations

by basilique



Series: Victuuri Sexytimes: Before, During, and After the Wedding [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Champagne, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Crying Katsuki Yuuri, Dorks in Love, Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, Fluff and Smut, Glitter, Happy Sex, Hotel Sex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Makeup, POV Alternating, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Podfic Welcome, Pole Dancing, Rimming, Role Reversal, Some Humor, Stripper Katsuki Yuuri, Stripping, Sub Katsuki Yuuri, True Love, Trust Kink, Vibrators, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, crying with pleasure, disclaimer: highly unrealistic pole dancing, femme fatale Katsuki Yuuri, helplessly smitten Victor Nikiforov, it's their wedding night and they've earned it, makeup running, rhinestones everywhere, romantic sex, seriously someone help him, what can i say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-10-05 21:43:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10317599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basilique/pseuds/basilique
Summary: Yuuri leans back again and swings himself lazily around the pole.Viktor sits up straight on the bed, all attention, and Yuuri cocks one dazzling, straight black eyebrow at him, as if to say, “I am going to destroy you, Viktor Nikiforov.”





	1. loving, black-browed night

Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,  
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,  
Take him and cut him out in little stars,  
And he will make the face of heaven so fine  
That all the world will be in love with night  
And pay no worship to the garish sun. 

-Juliet, in Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_  


Yuuri _cannot wait_ for Viktor to get back. 

But he’s got to hurry to get everything ready. 

He swipes his card in the card slot of room 515 and pushes the door open, flips on the lights, and _yes_ , the suite looks _great_. 

It’s modern and minimalistic, with a stark white bed and couches. There’s a wall of windows overlooking the twinkling blue and lavender lights of Tokyo below, and a large square skylight displaying the night sky above. 

And most importantly, in the center of the room, under the skylight just as Yuuri had planned and requested it set up, is Yuuri’s special surprise for Viktor. 

_Yes_ , this is _perfect_. And Yuuri feels his stomach leap with excitement. He can’t help but feel a little smug glee as he pictures Viktor’s reaction when he walks into the room and realizes what Yuuri has planned for him. 

But there’s no time to feel smug! Yuuri has 20 minutes tops before Viktor gets back from his champagne run. 

So Yuuri flips the light switch in the bathroom, drops his bag on the bathroom counter, unzips a pocket, dumps out a stash of makeup, and gets to work. 

He already looks good, perfectly clean-shaven and glowing with the happiness of his wedding day. But a little shading under his cheekbones, a few strokes of eyeliner, a lick of mascara, and several dabs of sparkling eye-shadow later, and he looks _gorgeous_. He tilts his head a little and makes a pretty face at himself as he sticks a few silver rhinestones by his eyes just to up the glitter effect. Then he wets a comb and runs it through his hair, runs a brush over his teeth, spits, and strips out of his tuxedo. 

He checks the time on his cell phone, and okay, _he should have five more minutes_. 

Yuuri is already wearing his night’s _costume_ ; he had it on under his tux through the whole ceremony and reception. But he strips down to soften the skin of his whole body with lotion, and then pulls his tuxedo back on, hiding the costume for now. 

As Viktor comes back in through the hotel’s revolving door and gets his room key at the front counter, Yuuri is lighting white candles around the room; on the bedside table, the coffee table, the floor. And as Viktor gets into the elevator, Yuuri is opening the front of his tuxedo to show off just a teasing glimpse of the glittering costume underneath. And when Viktor slides his card, opens the door, and steps into the room, Yuuri is standing in silhouette under the skylight, sparkling like the night sky in candlelight, with one hand lazily wrapped around a _stripper pole_ at the center of the room.


	2. beauty too rich for use

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning:  
> Drinking alcohol, consensually losing sexual inhibitions due to alcohol.  
> This warning applies to this chapter and to the rest of the story.

O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!  
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night.  
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear  
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! 

–Romeo, in Shakespeare’s _Romeo and Juliet_  


"What took you so long?" Yuuri says, his silhouette still turned to Viktor. "I've been waiting forever."

Viktor has to make a stupendous effort not to keel over and die. 

As it is, he drops the paper bag containing three bottles of champagne. They clink together and bounce harmlessly on the thickly carpeted floor. 

Viktor stands with his hands still raised in the air, his palms open, his mouth open, gaping at Yuuri as though he is a shooting star that just crashed down through the skylight and set the room on fire. 

“Pick those up, Viktor,” Yuuri says, and Viktor drops to his knees and scoops up the bag, never taking his wide eyes off of Yuuri. 

“Bring me one.” 

Viktor scrambles to obey, tripping over his own shining shoes as he hurries across the room. He pops a bottle of champagne open and yelps a little in surprise as it fizzes and spills over his hand. 

Viktor was _not_ prepared for this. 

He had thought he was ready for their wedding night. He had everything in place to make it one of the best nights of Yuuri’s life…he had brought a suitcase full of sex toys, lube, novelty condoms, handcuffs, blindfolds…and he had also brought a firm and solemn intention to lay Yuuri back and spend the entire night taking him apart _cell by cell_ , until he had him screaming, _screaming_ with pleasure. 

But evidently Yuuri has other plans. 

“Sit down, Viktor.” Yuuri presses one hand into the center of Viktor’s chest, shoving him firmly backwards, onto the bed. 

Viktor falls back like a limp noodle. And when Yuuri stretches out his hand, fingers curling delicately, Viktor wordlessly passes him the bottle of champagne. 

Yuuri hangs a little off the pole as he brings the bottle to his lips, tips it up, and drinks right from it. 

Viktor watches, mesmerized; Yuuri has already started his show. He moves intentionally, seductively, like he's already dancing. 

Yuuri sets the bottle down at the foot of the bed, pulls a tiny remote out of the breast pocket of his suit, and clicks it. Music starts to play from the boom box discreetly set in the corner, and Yuuri leans back again and swings himself lazily around the pole. 

Viktor sits up straight on the bed, all attention, and Yuuri cocks one dazzling, straight black eyebrow at him, as if to say, “I am going to destroy you, Viktor Nikiforov.” 

The music is modern, the sort of music that builds slowly and steadily, draws up dancing lights behind your eyes and makes you lose control of your body when the rhythm changes. There’s a beat, a synthesizer, what sounds like electric violins, and a swaying, shimmery sound in the back ground. 

Yuuri starts slowly, walking in a gentle circle with his hand on the pole. He unbuttons the front of his tuxedo with one hand and slips out of it, tosses it dismissively onto the bed. 

Then, tightening his grip on the pole, he swings himself around and up onto it, climbing it with just his arms. 

Viktor gasps a little. He knows that Yuuri has been using the pole to do strength training for months now, hoping to apply some extra core strength to controlling his spins on the ice. But somehow he hadn’t expected Yuuri to get _that_ strong. 

Katsuki Yuuri will never cease to surprise him. 

Yuuri arches his back, and Viktor watches the way his ass tightens in his dress pants. Ooohhh, Viktor hopes those are going to come off during this routine… 

Yuuri is all class in his white button-down silk shirt, wrapping his legs around the pole and hanging from it lazily as he loosens his tie, as he pulls it out of his collar, as he tosses it at Viktor. 

Viktor catches it and clutches at it like a star-struck fan, never taking his wide eyes off of Yuuri. 

The music builds a little, the synth rising in pitch, and Yuuri hangs off of the pole, one leg wrapped around it and his back arched as he spins. He lays his head back, rests it against the pole trustingly, a little smile on his perfect lips. 

Yuuri stays all class as he slips off his black cummerbund and drops it aside, as he loosens the collar of his shirt, as he twirls against, and around the pole. And for a good five or six minutes, he keeps Viktor mesmerized as he moves as though the music is already inside of him, rolling his torso, his hips, arching himself in and out of beautiful shapes. 

Then, unexpectedly, Yuuri spins to the floor, dropping onto his rear, and crawls to the edge of the bed. He kneels at Viktor’s feet, and raises those huge, smoldering black eyes to Viktor’s as he lifts the bottle of champagne from the floor and tips it back to drink from it again, long and deep. 

When he swallows and pulls it away from his lips, he says, “take my clothes off, Viktor.” 

Viktor can’t speak. He can’t do anything but breathe and obey, reaching with shaking hands for the buttons of Yuuri’s silk shirt. 

Yuuri drinks from the bottle again as Viktor does it, and Viktor suddenly realizes that the champagne is _part_ of Yuuri’s show. 

Yuuri’s going to let Viktor watch as the alcohol kicks in. He wants Viktor to watch as his judgment is impaired, his filters discarded…as he becomes more and more helplessly Viktor’s. 

It’s a kind of trust play for Yuuri, Viktor realizes. He wants Viktor to see his true feelings, uncensored and completely exposed, like he did the day Yuuri drunkenly grinded against him and begged him to come live with him and be his coach. 

He’s going to let Viktor watch him strip down from aloof, poised, and unattainable, to helplessly smitten, squirming, begging. This is more than a strip tease of clothing; it’s a strip tease all the way down to Yuuri’s true feelings for Viktor. 

Viktor physically shudders with desire and admiration. Yuuri is a _genius_. 

He's more than a genius! He's an _artist_. And he's also the most breath-takingly gorgeous human being on the planet. 

He gazes up at Viktor, coy and playful and trusting, with those _eyes_. And Viktor's shaking hands are _reverant_ as he loosens Yuuri's buttons, as he slips the soft silk from his shoulders.


	3. cast it off

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,  
Who is already sick and pale with grief,  
That thou her maid art far more fair than she:  
Be not her maid, since she is envious;  
Her vestal livery is but sick and green  
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.  
-Romeo, in Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_  


Yuuri watches Viktor’s pupils dilate as he slips the silk shirt from his shoulders, and glimpses the lingerie beneath. 

Viktor’s lips part with a little breath, and his tongue flicks out over his bottom lip. “My God, Yuuri, what are you wearing?” 

Yuuri just smiles, graceful and distant like the moon. He stands up, leans against Viktor’s knees, and drapes his arms around Viktor’s neck, watching as Viktor’s shaking fingers fumble with the button of his black dress pants. 

The alcohol is starting to buzz a little in Yuuri’s thighs, his toes, his chest. He lazily admires Viktor as he works on the buttons. 

Viktor looks devastatingly elegant in his suit, the soft black fabric fitted to his dancer’s body. He looks tall, masculine but graceful, subtle but dashing, luminous and breathtaking and… overwhelmingly _Viktor_. 

And he’s Yuuri’s _husband_. They just got fucking _married_. 

Yuuri’s head spins; either with wonder, or with alcohol, or with a combination of the two. 

Viktor has succeeded in getting the pants down around Yuuri’s knees, and Yuuri helps him by stepping out of them. He stumbles a little, and has to hop on one foot as he almost falls over. But then he snatches up the bottle of champagne in one hand, and throws a coy look over his shoulder at Viktor as he steps back to the pole. 

He turns around lazily to let Viktor take in the whole outfit. 

Deep purple and black ribbons lace up around Yuuri’s waist. They cross at his chest, connect to a lace brassiere with a sapphire-like bead hanging down at the center. The top hangs off of his shoulders, with strands of sparkling beads looping down over his forearms. Matching strands loop hang down from the black bikini on his hips, over his outer thighs. Garters, studded with tiny rhinestones, sparkle on his thighs, holding up silky thigh-high black tights. And the tight pleather bikini bottom has an open back. 

He tenses his ass to emphasize this fact, to let Viktor admire the way his cheeks look, perky and naked in the pleather. 

The costume sparkles in the candle-light like a sky of stars, and Yuuri moves, stretches, arches his body into sparkling constellations for Viktor. 

Looking over his shoulder again, he sees Viktor's eyes sparkling with the reflection of the costume, and with Viktor's own wonder and desire. 

Yuuri wants to see if he can turn that starry-eyed, romantic gaze into a grimace of outright, savage lust before the beat drops again in the music. 

Holding onto the pole with one hand, Yuuri arches back to finish the champagne. He tips the bottle up, swallows it down greedily, letting a little splash over his cheek and to the floor. He drops the bottle and kicks it away when he has finished it, and staggers back against the pole. He raises his arms and wraps them around behind the pole, leans into it as though he is trapped there, fixes his eyes on Viktor, his hardening cock clearly visible in the tight bikini. 

"Viktor," he moans. "Touch me. Please, I want you to touch me." His breath catches a little. He's getting drunker, and it's happening fast. "Viktor. Please... I need you. _Viktor_." 

Yuuri presses back against the pole. He lets it slide between the cheeks of his ass. The cool metal touches his rim, and he gasps, and rubs his rim against it. " _Viktor_ , ohhh..." 

All the breath tears out of Viktor's chest, and he is on his feet in a moment. He is suddenly up against Yuuri, pressing him back against the pole, and an animal _growl_ tears out of his throat. He wrenches the black silk tie from around his neck and wraps it around Yuuri's wrists, tightens it, knots it. Yuuri moans as hot pleasure rips through his body; his Viktor is tying him up. Yuuri's head falls back against the pole as he moans, strains, helpless and on fire with wanting. 

Viktor's hand slides between his legs, over the bulge in the tight pleather lingerie. " _Yes_!" Yuuri presses his hips forward, presses his cock desperately against Viktor's open palm, moaning. When Viktor moans with vicarious pleasure, Yuuri feels like he is going to lose his mind. He is really drunk now, and everything is a blur, and nothing matters in the whole world except for the way that Viktor makes him feel _so good_... 

"Rub me, Viktor," Yuuri moans. " _Ohhhh..._ " 

Viktor does, a little more pressure on Yuuri's trapped, pulsing cock. 

" _Viktor_..." Yuuri gasps, "Viktor, oh, _take me_ , Viktor...please...do anything you want to me. I'm yours. _Ohh_. Rub my cock. Manipulate me. Use me. Please. Use me, Viktor, _ohhhh_..." 

But Viktor takes no mercy on him. Instead, he takes his hand off of Yuuri's cock, and pulls away a little. He leans one forearm on the pole over Yuuri's head, and gazes down at him. And for a few minutes he just watches, his eyes black-blown with a desire that seems to come from very deep inside of him, as Yuuri twists and moans and pleads for sex.


	4. trespass sweetly urged

"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!  
Give me my sin again."

-Romeo, in Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_

“Viktor, please…” 

Yuuri presses his hips forward to grind against Viktor’s. 

“Be patient,” Viktor purrs, his lips caressing Yuuri’s neck. 

Yuuri is getting redder, and hotter in the face. He rubs his cock against Viktor’s hips, seeking out Viktor’s own hardness. “Don’t you want me, Viktor?” he breathes. 

Viktor winds his fingers into the front of Yuuri’s hair. He tugs Yuuri’s head back against the pole, and kisses his exposed throat. “Yes.” 

Yuuri moans. 

“But I also just want to look at you,” Viktor says. “You are so beautiful, Yuuri…” He runs his slender fingers across Yuuri’s jaw, over his throat, down the line of his breastbone. He pauses to finger the sapphire jewel hanging from Yuuri’s lacy top. 

“I’d look even better underneath you,” Yuuri slurs, and Viktor grins, and laughs in adoration. 

“You may be onto something there!” he says, pretending to consider. He runs his hands lightly up and down Yuuri’s sides, tracing his pretty shape. He runs his thumbs over the lace of the lingerie. It’s partly to try and take in the sheer physical depth of the sex appeal of the man who is now _his husband_ , and partly to tease Yuuri with the lightness of the touch. “Maybe I should pin you down on the floor.” 

They kiss, mouths open and ardent. And Viktor thumbs over Yuuri’s top again. He rubs the lace for a moment, rough, over Yuuri’s right nipple, and then thumbs it aside to bend down and put his mouth there. Yuuri strains, gasping, curving his back to press forward. 

“ _Look_ at you, Yuuri…” Viktor breathes. He straightens up again and cups Yuuri’s face in his hands. “You are _exquisite_. I can’t believe…” Viktor’s voice shakes a little. He is sorely tempted to untie Yuuri now, and just lay him back and make sweet love to him, like they both want. 

But he knows he can make it even better for Yuuri, by taking part in Yuuri’s trust game. Yuuri wants Viktor to praise and dominate him, to take total control of his body, get him more and more helpless, manipulate him, use him… 

Viktor would never, never in a thousand years manipulate or use Yuuri. Not for real. He would rather die than harm Yuuri, and that’s a simple fact that they both know, as well as they know how it feels to land a triple axel. 

But the game feels good; Yuuri offering up his body, his pride, his self-control, and Viktor taking them and holding them in his hands. 

He lifts the bottle of champagne from the foot of the bed, and raises it to Yuuri’s lips. “Drink for me.” 

Yuuri moans with pleasure as Viktor tips the bottle up, and looks up into Viktor’s eyes as he swallows deep gulps of the champagne. Viktor pauses and tips the bottle up for a few moments to let him breathe, and then puts it back to his mouth. Yuuri’s lips look obscene, wrapped around the neck of the bottle, and his eyes, raised to Viktor’s, are slavish. He moans with pleasure as he swallows over and over again for Viktor. 

He looks disappointed when Viktor pulls the bottle away. But Viktor knows Yuuri’s limits when it comes to alcohol. The amount he’s had now will soon have him plastered, but not sick or blacking-out or otherwise unsafe. 

Yuuri takes a deep gulp of air and then strains against his bound hands again. “ _Viktor…_ ” His tone is pleading. 

Viktor, his hands shaking a little with excitement and arousal and the sheer _wonder_ of what is happening to him right now, unties Yuuri’s wrists from the pole above their heads. Yuuri instantly loses his balance and falls forward, and Viktor catches him under his armpits. 

Viktor falls back onto the bed, and pulls Yuuri with him. Yuuri swings his leg around to straddle Viktor’s lap, and sits on top of him, grinding a little against the bulge in Viktor’s pants, his red lips parted and his eyes misted with desperate wanting.


	5. to lose a winning match

"Come, civil night, thou sober-suited matron all in black,  
and learn me how to lose a winning match" 

-Juliet, in Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_

Yuuri fumbles with the button of Viktor’s pants. He’s going to pull Viktor’s cock out and rub it between his thighs, make his husband cum all over himself. 

But his hands aren’t working very well. 

His whole body, in fact, is unwieldy. Everything is just a little difficult. And before Yuuri can get Viktor’s pants open, Viktor’s hand is back on the bulge in Yuuri’s bikini bottoms. 

“Oh…” he presses up on his hips, presses into Viktor’s hand. The sparkling garters on his thighs strain a little, and the naked cheeks of his ass tighten. He puts his hands behind him on the bed so that he can press forward harder. 

The room spins as he looks at the wall behind him, shoving his hips forward. But Viktor is _holding back_ , touching him lightly on purpose just to watch him squirm for it. Yuuri’s cock is hard and pulsing under the tight pleather of his costume, and he _needs_ Viktor’s hand, he _needs_ it. 

“Viktor,” he pleads, “harder…rub it…oh…” 

Viktor’s hands are suddenly on his waist, and he is flipped around onto his back. Viktor mouths over his cock, hot and bulging in the pleather, and then presses his knees up to his chest, and mouths his way down between the cheeks of his ass. Viktor kneels beside the foot of the bed, his silver hair falling in a sheet across his eyes as he buries his face in the most sensitive part of Yuuri’s body. 

Yuuri gasps, his hands flying up involuntarily to cover his eyes, as he feels Viktor’s mouth on the crease of his ass, licking and exploring until Viktor’s lips brush over his ass hole. “Ahhh--!” he shivers, and Viktor comes back to the spot. He brushes his lips over Yuuri’s rim again, then his _tongue_ , and then he is teasing Yuuri with lips and tongue and _teeth_ , and Yuuri hears his own helpless, delicate moans as though from very far away. 

Viktor’s tongue is pressing inside of him, a jab of white-hot pleasure. It’s moving inside of him, shoving into him. His Viktor is mouthing him open. Yuuri is moaning like a whore and he loves it, they _both_ love it, hearing out loud what Viktor’s tongue _feels like_ inside of Yuuri. 

Yuuri loves this feeling. Loves it almost more than having Viktor’s cock inside of him, splitting him open while Viktor moans-out how _good_ he feels. 

But he wants to pleasure Viktor, too. Or rather, he wants Viktor to _take_ pleasure from him. 

Viktor has paused for a moment and Yuuri raises his head, with great difficulty, to voice this desire. 

Viktor has pulled a suitcase out from under the bed, and is reaching around in it. Yuuri mentally prepares himself to speak, trying to put together a coherent sentence through his drunken, pleasure-logged brain. 

"Viktor,” he gasps. “Want you to…use me for your…mmm, make me…make me take it…make me suck you…” 

Viktor is back at the foot of the bed, pressing Yuuri’s knees to his chest again. Viktor’s eyebrows contract with affection and desire at Yuuri’s words, but he doesn’t answer. And as their eyes meet, and Yuuri opens his mouth to keep begging, Viktor presses something into his ass. It’s lubricated, and slender, a velvety bullet-shaped toy. Yuuri’s open mouth opens a little wider, and his eyes narrow with pleasure. Whatever he was about to say, it is completely gone now. 

“Ohh, Yuuri…” Viktor moans, his eyes worshipful as he watches the pleasure register on Yuuri’s face. He clicks a remote control in his hand, and the toy starts to vibrate, to buzz, in Yuuri’s ass. 

“ _Ohhh…_ ” They moan in unison as Yuuri’s head falls back against the bed. His fingertips curl into the soft white blanket. 

“The first thing I want,” Viktor murmurs, his voice a little hoarse, “is to make you cum in your pants. Do you think you can do that for me, cutie?” 

“Yes, Viktor,” Yuuri gasps. “ _Yes…_ ” 

Viktor’s thumb brushes over the pleather that is stretched tightly over the head of Yuuri’s cock. It doesn’t take much; just Viktor’s suggestion and the chafe of the pleather against Yuuri’s swollen head. Yuuri grabs ahold of a pillow, and as Viktor rubs him harder, he screws up his face and bites it, stifling his filthy cries in it, as he cums sweetly in his lingerie under Viktor’s hand. 

“ _Good.._ ” Viktor breathes, and Yuuri quivers a little with the pleasure of the praise. The bullet is still vibrating in his ass, and it’s almost as though it keeps the orgasm from finishing. He still feels little waves of heat pulsing from the inside of his ass. And he keeps letting out little moans of pleasure, unable to stop and not wanting to. And he is aware of the way those sounds are affecting Viktor, who is still kneeling at the foot of the bed, pressing his hips against the side of the mattress and grinding into it a little. 

“That’s it, sweetheart…” Viktor gasps. “You can suck me now, if you want to.”


	6. infinite

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea. My love as deep.  
The more I give to thee, the more I have.  
For both are infinite."  
-Juliet, in Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_

Yuuri reaches for Viktor, and Viktor crawls up onto the bed. 

Yuuri is much too drunk to get Viktor’s dress pants open, so Viktor does it for him, standing on his knees to unbutton and unzip the fly. 

Yuuri lunges at him, and Viktor lets him knock him back onto the bed. He smiles as Yuuri crawls over him, and reaches up to cup Yuuri’s face in his hands. But Yuuri is on a mission and he is not going to be deterred by Viktor’s sappy gazing. 

He hauls up Viktor’s shirt, and drops his face to kiss Viktor’s abs, sliding his hands down to frame the bulge in Viktor’s underwear. Viktor feels the heat of Yuuri’s hands surrounding him, not-quite-touching his cock, and the flutter of Yuuri’s ragged breath on his stomach. 

As Yuuri pulls Viktor’s underwear down his cock, he raises his eyes to his husband’s. He lifts Viktor’s cock up and slides it sloppily into his mouth. 

Viktor sucks in a rush of air. 

Yuuri keeps his eyes on Viktor’s as he hollows his cheeks around his cock, swallows it down deeper. Viktor stares helplessly; Yuuri looks gorgeous; his make-up sparkling, his cheeks dark red, his eyebrows contracted together. His eyelashes, and the rhinestones beside his eyes glitter, and the eyeliner makes his huge dark eyes look even more dramatically beautiful than usual. _He’s like Cleopatra…_

The toy is still vibrating in Yuuri’s ass, and Viktor can see the pleasure distracting him a little. Pleasure shows itself in Yuuri’s brow; the way his forehead furrows and his pretty eyebrows contract. 

Yuuri pops Viktor’s cock into his cheek, and when Viktor moans at the sight of his cheek bulging with it, Yuuri’s eyes roll closed with satisfaction. 

“Oh, Yuuri…” 

Viktor is starting to lose the calm control that he had been cultivating for Yuuri’s sake. The hot, velvety insides of Yuuri’s cheeks slide around his cock, and his brain is catching on fire… on fire with his dazzling, drunk, coy, needy, sparkling husband… 

Viktor clicks the remote control to make the toy vibrate faster in Yuuri’s ass, and Yuuri’s brow contorts with pleasure, as Viktor had known it would. “Ah… _ahhh--!_ ” he gasps around Viktor’s cock, and squirms in his own cum inside his lingerie. Viktor grits his teeth to bring himself back from the edge of coming. He doesn’t want this to be over yet. 

Yuuri pulls back for a moment. “Are you close?” he slurs, and Viktor nods. 

“Is that alright?” His Russian accent comes out stronger than usual, as it sometimes does when he is close to losing control. 

“I want you to cum in me,” Yuuri slurs urgently. “Fucking me.” 

“Are you sure? I’m not going to last much longer.” 

“Yes. _Please_ , I want to feel you lose control inside me...” 

Viktor groans, and grasps at the base of his cock to keep from coming just at those words. 

Yuuri’s eyes shine desperately. “Please, Viktor…” 

“Idi syuda,” Viktor gasps. It takes him a moment to realize he has spoken in Russian. “Come here,” he translates, as he sits up and pulls himself out from underneath Yuuri. He grabs Yuuri by the waist and hauls him around so that he can kneel behind him, and snatches for the lube and condom on the bedside table. 

Viktor pulls the toy out of Yuuri’s ass, not bothering to switch it off as he tosses it aside. He presses his cock hungrily between Yuuri’s cheeks, against Yuuri’s rim, thanking the stars for this open-backed lingerie. He groans like an animal as he breaches Yuuri, as he pushes inside of him. 

Yuuri lets out a cry, and Viktor looks up quickly into the mirror across the room. Yuuri’s eyes are screwed shut, and his mouth is open. But it’s an expression of intense pleasure, not pain, so Viktor starts to move, sinking deeper into Yuuri’s ass and tugging out again. 

Yuuri whimpers with pleasure, and Viktor keeps his eyes glued on that gorgeous face in the mirror, watching every micro-contraction of those eyebrows, those eyes squeezed shut, the flush creeping over his whole face and down his neck… 

The starlight from the skylight above illuminates Yuuri’s face in silver, makes him sparkle all the more, and Viktor can’t help but press in and out of him a little deeper, a little faster. 

He leans down to kiss the back of Yuuri’s neck, and finds that Yuuri is wearing perfume there; a dreamy, celestial scent that has mixed with the smell of his sweat, and dripped all the way down to sink into the skin between his shoulder blades. The smell is delicious; Viktor breathes it in again and again as he kisses the back of Yuuri’s neck, bites him, whispers his adoration against Yuuri’s skin. 

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, Yuuri. Ever since that night you danced with me, I have been-- _ahh!--_ smitten and helpless.” 

He grips at Yuuri’s hair, overwhelmed with the pleasure tugging in his hips, wanting to go slowly to make it last, but unable to. 

“I never thought that you would be mine. I never believed--ahh, _blyad_ \--! that you would-- _oh, Yuuri, ohhh…_ ” 

Yuuri lets out another keening cry, and Viktor raises his eyes to the mirror again. Yuuri’s mouth is still open, and there are tears of pleasure blossoming in his eyes. They roll down his cheeks as Viktor keeps fucking him. His makeup streams. His cheeks burn. His tears roll down his neck and into his open mouth, and he cries out, getting louder and louder and louder until Viktor just can’t hold himself back anymore, and he thrusts, wild and hard and uncontrolled into Yuuri as he cums, broken moans wracking his body. 

* 

They are both quiet and still for a long time, breathing hard and glowing with sweat and satisfaction and happiness. Viktor lies on his back, half-submerged in the soft pillows of the bed, and Yuuri lies draped around him, his head on his chest. 

Yuuri hums happily to himself, tracing shapes over Viktor’s chest and shoulder with his fingertips. His makeup is a mess, streaked down his cheeks and neck and through his hair. His lipstick has completely come off, but his lips are now a natural plump pink from sucking Viktor’s dick. He is naked; Viktor had pulled him out of the lingerie, worried that the lace might start itching him and he would get a rash from sitting in his own cum. Viktor is naked too, now. 

There are rhinestones all over the bed. 

Viktor strokes Yuuri’s sweaty hair, blissfully happy to feel Yuuri’s warmth wrapped around his body. Sometimes Viktor thinks that Yuuri might not be real, just a mirage that appeared to Viktor in his emptiness, an illusion of the kind of happiness that he could never have. It is an enormous relief to feel Yuuri’s heartbeat against his side, the sweat on the inside of Yuuri’s thigh that is draped around him, a little drool from Yuuri’s drunken mouth on his chest. Yuuri can be inhumanly alluring sometimes, but Viktor likes it just as much, if not more, when he comes back to being human. 

“Was that good, Viktor?” Yuuri asks, surprising him out of his thoughts. 

“ _Good_? That was _wonderful_ , Yuuri. I saw stars, my love.” 

“Good,” says Yuuri, sounding happy, and a little smug. “I was hoping you would.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! :D See the cover art for this fic here: https://basilique.tumblr.com/image/161106072231
> 
> And come hang out with me on tumblr! basilique.tumblr.com


End file.
